The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1887-02-16

returned from a vacation at the noun
tains, without having heard of the dis
aster that had overtaken the Fanshawes
when am married, she said, in the
enthusiasm of first acquaintance with
the mountains, 81 shall take my wedding
tour through the hills in buggy; it's
| just enchantment. Any letter for me,
Aunt Ellen? Any news2"
''News9 Oh dear-yes too much.
didn't write you because didn't want
to sadden your vacation. And you and
Aleck were always such friends"
"Aleckm
eyes The Albatross has been lost at
sea, and the Fanshawes arc Just heart
broken, and Louise is there with them;
it seems she was engaged to Aleck pri-
vately and her widows weeds are very
becoming. It's a dreadful, dreadful
thing for her; but they say the Squire
has about the same as adopted her and
that she'll have the lions share of Alexis
money. Ske went in on the Squire's
own arm when the funeral sermon was
preached; it was very touching. Why
don't you say something, Betty? al
ways thought you and Aleck were good
friends; and Louise"
"Whst is there to say2" Betty asked,
directly There was an odd lustre in her
eyes, but she was not crying; she looked
petriied.
"You might at least say you were
sorry"
"sorry' Oh yes"-absently-'T sup
pose So"
"Why, Betty, haven't you any feel
ing3"
Il don't know. Perhaps not What
good would it do2"
''Aleck was such a good friend to
you DO you remember when he used
to come and help you with your German2
used to think he was little in love
with you, Betty; but it seems l was mis-
taken and for the matter of that, it
doesn't signify, now that he is dead.
Indeed, it's better for you as it ls you
are spared the sorrow. Why, Betty, are
you sick2 Is anything the matter2"
Betty had risen with great cry, and
was stretching out unavailing arms into
space. ''He is Auckland he
loved her, and she has right to her sor-
row; aud /"
1t was three months before Betty LIE
Breton was able to sit up. The neigh
bors said she had come home from the
mountains with malaria, and it was
doubtful if she would ever get it out of
her system. Miss LIE Breton, her aunt,
wisely said nothing; but when she saw
Louise in her funereal garments driving
by in Squire Fanshaws carriage, she
wondered if Betty were not far more
miserable. Betty herself wondered why
IL i - L. f
despair. There seemed to be nothing
to detain her here; life had come to a
standstill. 1t was not that Aleck had
died; she could have borne that,
perhaps, and sorrowed bravely, and
yet have lived on. That would
have been grief enough, to be sure,
for one heart to bear; but she would still
have possessed the tender assurance of
his love to, compensate her. She would
not have lost him utterly; she could have
lived on, with the certainty OF meeting
him unchanged at last, Just as she had
existed through her tedious work -a-days,
sure of his companionship at their close
the one brightness in all her sombre
days, the hours that were never absent
from her thoughts, the hope that had
carried her through all difficulties un-
complainingly. Now there was nothing
for her to live for or to die for. Itseemed |
to her that the bloom was stripped from
the world She could not reconcile her
self to her changed condition, nor ad Just |
herself to the belief that Aleck had cared |
nothing for her through all the years that |
had been to her like heaven on earth
that he had merely been passing the time. |
She felt as if the solid earth had failed |
beneath her feet, and her life stretched |
out before her in dreary and barren per
spective. If she could only be allowed /
to preserve the illusion that he loved her,
wherever he might be, that would have .
suficed for happiness, would have gilded
all the empty years she must spend on
earth without the sun of his presence
But people do not die when they have
nothing to live for. Betty's aunt trusted
to time to mitigate the blow; she remem-
bered that she had herself once had a lover
who deserted her; that she had cried her
eyes out, and had given away all her Jewell
ry, and believed she was done with every
thing but ten years later he passed her
window daily, a bald, gouty man from
whom the glamour had fled. But she
had forgotten that he had robbed her
Oi tle power Ol loving any OuO else, anu
that other lovers had sighed in van.
When Betty first went out and began to
resume her ordinary life as if nothing
had happened, the Squirrels family had
gone abroad, and had taken Louise Tur-
ner with them 20 lighteu the shadow of
their grief; and a stone in the SQuire's
lot in the cemetery recorded the fact that
Aleck Fanshawe had lived and died.
1t would have been a melancholy com
fort to Betty to hang wreaths upon that
great white stone that confronted her
like ghost among the shrubbery, to
plant flowers about it, But how could
She lavish such loving trifes in memory
Of the man who had deprived her Of the
poor privilege of weeping for him2
She sometimes felt as if She would like
to leave Haven forever; every road and
stile and bit of wood reminded her of
Aleck 1t was here he met her on her
daily walk from school, it was in the
wood they gathered the autumn leaves,
and came home laden with spoils; on
this river the moonlight had found
them; on this wild bank Aleck had sat
aud sketched the scene for her; beneath
u ,ig +roo ba ha1 rood 20 bor from, tbo ]